I remember tucking puppy Cooper into my sweater because he’d get cold and start squeaking. He weighed six pounds. That’s how much Ripley weighs now.

Cooper used to curl up against my stomach while I worked. He’d nestle his tiny face under my arm, I’d scoot in my desk chair, and type away while he dozed like a little kangaroo.

If he thought he could fit, he’d try the same today.

I remember waking up at all hours of the night because puppy Cooper needed to go out or had already had an accident.

I remember falling asleep while listening for the tiniest signs from the crate next to my bed. Poor puppy Cooper. That first year of his life spent in a cone, itching himself to pieces, and ill a lot of the time. And, yet, he played with his brothers, tore up the house playing solo, played in the yard and the kiddie pool, walked and ran and did all the puppy things, despite it all.

We nailed down his health issues, have him on the right food and the right medication, we manage his supplements well, and now he’s squarely a healthy “grown up” at 7. But he does the same today: runs and jumps and plays, skitters, tears up the house (though that’s more metaphorical than literal these days)… and then he cuddles in bed with me and the kitties when it’s time to settle, thankfully without all the overnight waking.

I remember thinking puppy Cooper can learn anything!

He stretched my training abilities to the limit back then because he learned everything immediately. What took Lucas a couple days and Emmett (sweet Emmett) a few weeks to learn, Cooper mastered in a session. He picked up a ton of stuff–some manners, household routines–from watching his brothers. It turned me into a lazy trainer with him because I took it for granted that he’d just figure stuff out.

Now? He picks and chooses. I know this is a controversial topic in the dog training world: Can a dog truly be obstinate? In other words, can a dog know the command, know what you want exactly, but choose to do something differently? Most argue that, well, the dog doesn’t really know the command that well. This is a complex discussion I’m distilling for simplicity, but here’s what I know about Cooper:

He listens with perfect, crystal-clear hearing. He executes with varying degrees of creativity. And if you say in a mock-horrified tone, “Cooper! I’m shocked!” or something similar to express disbelief, he will gaze up into your face, spend a second figuring out if you’re serious or not, and if you can pull off the serious expression, he quickly does the thing exactly as you asked him to do in the first place.

Drives me nuts. (But at the same time I love and adore him for it!)

All this is coming full circle now that Violet is eating solid food. (I totally had a point!! It just took me this long to get to it!!)

He always went to his bed in the corner of the kitchen when we were eating, more as a matter of good manners than anything else.

Now? With his food allergies it’s becoming imperative that he parks his bum on that bed during meal times, but…

He waits until I go to the fridge to get something. He pops up out of his bed, gobbles all the tiny bits of food she drops, then dashes back to his bed before (he thinks) I notice.

Or, Violet snatches up a handful of something–yesterday it was peas–and leans all the way under the table to hand him pieces while giggling her face off. And dear Cooper pops up, goes under the table, and ever so gently takes the proffered peas out of her chubby little fingers.

I really, really, really don’t want him to have any of those flare-ups from all those years ago that kept us up at night, kept him in a cone all day every day, and–most importantly–kept him from enjoying life at top speed.

So, back to the drawing board.

Clearly the bed in the corner is no good because it’s a mere three feet from where Violet sits in her Bumbo graciously doling out food to the animals. (The other day I went to fill her sippy cup, and I turned back to see her hand feeding Newt fistfuls of tofu…)

Obviously we’re going to work with Violet on not feeding the animals. That’s of course part of the plan, but at this point in her development, training Cooper is the faster solution.

I’m torn, too, because part of me thinks… well, it’s just peas. She’s mobile and handsy and falls on him a million times a day no matter how closely I keep an eye on them, so if she feeds him maybe it’ll solidify his positive feelings towards her. But then I can’t change the rules on them both when she’s eating, say, chicken. It would feel so arbitrary to them. Neither Violet nor Cooper would understand.

I remember worrying in those first few months about Cooper with Violet. I remember hoping that he’d take to her (he did) and that he wouldn’t feel neglected or pushed aside (we’ve tried to keep everything the same for him). I remember worrying about him adjusting to all of it.

I couldn’t even fathom–nearly a year ago–that I’d be worrying about Violet feeding Cooper something that would send his body into a tailspin because I honestly couldn’t imagine her sitting in a chair feeding herself!! Just like way back when I tucked Cooper into my sweater to work each day I couldn’t imagine him being healthy and well and training for a half marathon with John.

I remember facing each of Cooper’s challenges along the way and thinking… when will we solve this one?

And we’ve solved them all (mostly…), so I know this will be solved, too.

In the meantime, what is your dinnertime routine with your pup? Do they go to a specific place? Do you all eat together on the couch? Any best practices that work for you and your family?

Last night, Violet thumped her legs in her crib on and off all night long.

She wasn’t awake–at least, not until 4 am–but she spent the entire night lifting her chubby little legs and slamming them down. In her sleep. All night.

See, she’s still sleeping in the little crib in our room. SIDS-prevention recommendations now have infants sleep in their parents’ room until at least six months. So, of course, John and I got little sleep.

Newt and Cooper, who also sleep in our room, slept just fine in case you were wondering…

It’s now 7:15. We’ve been up for three hours. We’re on our second pot of coffee. My work hours haven’t even started yet.

And that’s our life these days… a sleepy, coffee-fueled haze! It’s worth every groggy moment, of course, but we’re still groggy.

What does that haziness mean for Cooper and Newt?

This is a question that’s preoccupied my attention for several days now, and a conversation with a friend helped clarify the predicament for me.

Backing up a step: There are different types of dog people. I think of it like a spectrum. On one end are people who have dogs, love them, and meet their basic needs every day. On the other end are, well, us. Me and you. We have dogs. We love them. We meet their basic needs every day. And then we go above and beyond as much and as often as we can. We enroll in training classes and play dog sports. We research and read and test and train and repeat until we’re confident–or, as confident as we can possibly get–that we’re providing our loves with the best, happiest life. It has nothing to do with how much we spend on them, but rather the dedication to ensuring their physical and emotional lives are taken care of.

Now that we have our hands extra full, I keep asking myself: How can I continue to be the dog (and cat) mama who still always goes above and beyond for Coop (and Newt)?

Ultimately, it came down to one question: How do I want to spend my time?

{{Aside: It’s now the next day. I wrote all that yesterday. She woke up at 4 again today. Send coffee.}}

Anyway, time.

The only answer to that question, in my mind, was I want to spend my time having fun with my family.

Except for one huge change that might be coming later today (another story for another day… but it’s a good one…), we’re simplifying everything that took up unnecessary time and funneling that time into family time. For instance, we realized we were spending a huge chunk of our Saturday cleaning and tidying the house, so we hired a lovely woman to come do the deep cleaning stuff every other week. That bought us the time to take a hike every single Saturday morning.

We go through a ton of laundry detergent, so I got a subscription to the eco-friendly powder I love so that I never have to go online and reorder. It just magically arrives right as we’re about to run out. We are also testing out a weekly box of meals, which has saved more time than I imagined, not just in the cooking (everything is already measured out and organized) but in trips to the grocery store. Same thing with work clothes. John and I both work from home but have travel and events throughout the year, so we only need a few clothing items annually, so we signed up for a quarterly box of styled work clothes. (If you’re interested in more detail about either of those services, let me know in the comments, and I’m happy to share all our thoughts!)

All that means is that we can spend our evenings playing Recall Relay in the backyard with Coop. It means we can go for a family walk or jog almost every day. It means we can take Newt out on her line after work almost every day, and it means we can go to the library with Violet every Sunday.

Of course, none of that means that things are easy. Or that we’ve made our life simple. It’s still a complex jugging act in which I’m constantly dropping balls. We still have our work days and work travel, and we have lots of other community and family obligations, time with friends, and so on. Oh, and the big (actually… tiny…) thing that might happen this afternoon…

But, I think my new mantra in life is, “Progress, not perfection.”

I’m doing my best to still be the Cooper and Newt mama who goes above and beyond for them every day, and I’d like to think they know that…

How do YOU simplify??

Every new subscriber to both the meal box and the clothing box automatically get a referral link to share. That means if you click on these and subscribe, we both get money off. (If you’re interested in more detail about either of those services, let me know in the comments, and I’m happy to share all our thoughts!)

Last week, John’s brother, sis-in-law, and two kiddos–ages 4 and 7–visited from Maryland to meet Violet.

Cooper loved having guests, primarily because the 7-year-old was willing to play Cooper’s favorite game, “Chase me but don’t catch me!”

He picks up a toy and runs. He loves to be pursued. He doesn’t really want to be caught. Our nephew was more than happy to chase Cooper–legit trying to catch him, I think, but Cooper is fast and pretty wily–around the house in circles for three straight days.

The kids were obsessed with Newt, too. I’ve noticed kids become fascinated by her. She’s a mysterious little critter, which captivates children. Newt, of course, does not feel the same way.

By the time they left, our three little herd members were wiped. (As was I!)

One thing totally stuck with me, though, that I’ve been thinking about since Saturday. Sitting around chatting with my sister in law, she mentioned how when she was a new parent, she felt like no one was talking about the tough parts, which makes it feel like you’re the only one struggling. (“My kid can’t be the only kid in the world who never, ever, ever sleeps?!”) And, she pointed out, social media makes it so. much. worse.

The weather was perfect, so we figured we’d take Cooper and Violet to the nearby trails for an evening hike.

A decent-enough pic.

I started to post it on Instagram (“Fun family hike!”), and then I remembered the conversation with my sister-in-law and changed my mind.

Why?

Well, for starters, when we got to the park and parked, Violet spit out her pacifier, and I didn’t notice, so we started to walk without it. The horror.

Also, we weren’t 10 feet from the car when Cooper dove head first into a whole lotta poison ivy. John’s super allergic, so getting the potential oil off of Cooper became a Thing, which meant were weren’t in motion, which meant Violet started to cry.

And cry.

And cry.

So, we got going, only to stop literally another 10 feet further down for Cooper to have a sort of “off” poo.

By this time, we’ve gone back to the car three times: once for wipes to clean up Cooper, once for Violet’s pacifier, and once for wipes to clean up Cooper.

Once we got on the actual trail, I had to put Violet’s sun hat on her because it was still SO sunny, and that was, apparently, the last straw.

She. lost it.

As did Cooper at about the exact same second because from the two trails shooting off from the main one we were on, dogs appeared. Coming at us from both trails. At the same time.

That’s it. We’re done.

We walk back to the car, and I mentioned that I had wanted to get a hiking pic. Sigh.

So, we posed that one literally standing in front of the car. In the parking lot.

Then we drove home.

In total, we were in the car longer than we were at the park.

A couple weeks ago, a friend had said something like, “How are you keeping it all together?”

Answer: I’m not.

No one is!

But social media sort of makes you feel like everyone else has it altogether, you know? Because you know your stuff is hanging by a thread, but then you open Facebook, and it breeds comparison… but, really, you’re comparing your truth to someone else’s glossy post.

Anyway, random thoughts, but in the spirit, I’d like to share the Fourth of July pic we got this year! And here I am sharing it on July 27! Only a mere 23 days late. And, also, it’s this:

A couple weeks ago, John stood in the laundry room folding yet another pile of teeny-tiny onesies while I cleaned the kitchen.

Seemingly out of the blue, he turned to me and asked, “Are you ever going to write about Emmett? All the stuff at the end?”

I answered as honestly as I could. “It’s too hard.”

And it is. It still is.

The thing is, the end has to be separated from the rest. The end was like all ends: sad, painful, not unexpected, but entirely surprising. He had terminal cancer. He didn’t die of terminal cancer.

His decline happened so fast.

Degenerative myelopathy.

That was the diagnosis, and maybe I’ll write about that some day and share our experience because sometimes first-hand helps when you’re going through something so significant, but that’s the part that needs to be detached from the rest. Right now, it’s too hard. It’s not what I wanted for him. He deserved better.

I miss him.

That is the singular, simple truth: I miss Emmett.

When John and I had that conversation, one of the things I said was that I was struggling to write blog posts. My role here is to tell our stories, for better or for worse, but I lost the thread. Without Em, I don’t know what the story is anymore. It all started with him. He was Chapter One.

Of course, it’s the same story, just a much later chapter.

Right now, in fact, it’s 10:27 PM. I’m sitting on the floor of the living room with my laptop, just waiting for Violet to wake up. She needs one more bottle then she’ll sleep until 5 or 6 am, so I’m waiting.

Newt buried herself under the comforter when John went to bed.

Cooper… well… Cooper alternates. Some nights, he’s so exhausted from his long day of Violet-minding that he crashes as soon as his head buries under the covers. Other nights, he can’t let his guard down and waits up until it’s really time for her to go down.

And I think that’s where we are right now: The Cooper Chapter.

Maybe I’ll write about degenerative myelopathy someday.

But, for now, there’s so much to tell about Cooper. He’s changing so much, you guys. We had a day at the park, this past Sunday, when there were zero freak-outs. Not a one. And there were lots of people there! (OK, no dogs, but… we’ll take what we can get.) His recall has become rock-solid, and he’s taking his job of Violet’s watch dog seriously.

So, even though I’m still. so. sad. and a big part of me still won’t accept that my Emmett is gone, I am super excited on Cooper’s behalf to be turning the page and diving into his chapter.

I’m fully prepared for you to tsktsktsk while shaking your head after I say this (famous last words, anyone?), but here goes:

I think I’ve finally got a handle on… well, stuff.

I mean, not entirely. But mostly. Or, partly anyway.

{{Note: I wrote the draft of this post on my flight TO BlogPaws. Three weeks ago. I just needed to snap one pic to go with it. Just one. So, yeah. Partly.}}

It’s been a tumultuous couple of months around here. But I have found after all we’ve been through over the years, the craziest times serve as a hard reset to my priorities. When things are out of control, you figure out what’s important to force into control. For me, it’s family, number one.

What does that look like right now?

Well, when Violet came along, I hadn’t actually been in my full-time job with BlogPaws for long enough to qualify for FMLA. Yes, I could’ve taken unpaid time off, but that wasn’t realistic. We were so lucky that John’s job is super flexible AND he had a ton of leave saved up. So, for the past 7 weeks, John’s been Violet’s primary caregiver. Plus, his stuff is super project-based instead of office-hours based, so if he ends up working at night for a while, it is what it is. When he’s had meetings and things, I’ve just gotten up extra early (Vi’s up by 5 anyway, so nbd!) to get ahead on work so that I could take care of her while he was on his calls. We’re figuring it out. Some days it flows. Other days… not so much.

What we weren’t willing to sacrifice in all that figuring-it-out was family time.

So, just about every day, we’ve found time to take Violet and Cooper to the park. We’ve taken her hiking every single weekend since we brought her home. If I can get away for a lunch break, we latch her car seat into a jogging stroller and dash around the block with them. We don’t want to be those people whose life stops “because of” a baby because we want her to experience a fun, full life… And we desperately need to keep Coop’s world happy and enriched while he’s still trying to figure out the loss of Em.

{{For those wondering about Newt, it’s the same thing: daily food puzzles, daily game playing, and–when possible–out in the yard on her harness and line. We’re contemplating taking her to the park on her line… But… I don’t know? Does anyone have experience with that? Advice, tips, warnings?}}

To make totally sure that all that family time can happen, I have to be crazy careful with my time management. That has been my big struggle because I suffer from Something Shiny Syndrome (aka, SQUIRREL!).

So, what does that look like?

Currently, I get up around 5 to feed Vi. (There’s one of those in the AM, y’all! Who knew?)

She sometimes drops back off to sleep… usually not. On the day she does, I can get a head start on BlogPaws work. On the days she doesn’t, I snuggle her and Cooper while sipping my coffee. It’s actually pretty lovely.

Then it’s work, work, work with a lunch break to walk or jog with my babies, then back to work. On the days that I start around 5, I’m trying to finish around 3:30 or 4 so that I can work on other projects or my blog (I’m aiming for… and OK with… one post per week for now… but striving to work towards two). But no matter what I’m working on, I really, really, really force myself to be done by 5. The past few weeks, that was impossible as we worked toward the conference. Now that I’m back home, I’m going to reinforce and stick to those hours so that evenings can be cooking out or swimming (the pool’s opening soon!) or reading to and playing with Violet and Cooper.

There are three “secrets” that make all this work:

No TV. We got rid of cable years ago, and I’m SO glad we did. Whenever I see people posting on FB or Twitter that there’s NO TIMEEEEEEE but then they post about shows they watch? Drives me nuts. (Side note: OMG Will & Grace is coming back in the fall??!? Can you just subscribe to one show???)

My planner. It is legitimately the other half of my brain. Cooper’s and Newt’s vet appointments and medication refill reminders, Violet’s doctor’s appointments, work to dos, house to dos, shopping lists, blog posts, John’s meetings that I need to be free for childcare, deadlines, bills due, social obligations, all of it… If it’s not written down, it’s not happening. It might as well not exist.

{{Note 2: The irony of the fact that this photo is blurry upon uploading it to my computer, the ONE PHOTO that took me three weeks to remember to snap, nope… that irony is definitely not lost on me. Also, his eyes are goopy. Luckily I took this pic like 3 minutes ago so will go wipe out and write myself a note to pick up allergy meds. 🙂 }}

Which brings me to the ultimate point of this post (“Wait, she has a point?!?!?”) and my lovely friend Jodi of the fabulous blog, Kol’s Notes. She made the cutest, most wonderful pet-themed planner stickers EVERRRRR.

You guys, even if you don’t have a planner or don’t track all these specific things, you have to download and print this anyway. It’s THAT CUTE. (The hamster?? Squee!!)